


Amends

by eccentrick



Series: Like Color, Like Sound [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Self-Hatred, oikawa saves the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 03:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6499558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eccentrick/pseuds/eccentrick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The coward and the introvert were always an unusual match. When certain feelings start to get in the way of Kuroo and Kenma's friendship, the strength to hold on is hard to come by.  </p>
            </blockquote>





	Amends

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last part of a series!!!! Please read the others first!
> 
>  Hi! I'm so sorry that this is late! My infusion didn't mess me up as much as anticipated, but I still have a chronic disease sometimes writing is difficult lol. The meds in the infusion also gave me random bouts of anxiety for a few days, which I was already prone too, so that didn't help, though I hope that the word count made up for the lateness! Thank you to my beta Jazz, for dealing with my whining and editing this so quickly!
> 
> T/W: Some homophobic slurs are used towards the middle end, so be careful.
> 
> (Listened to the CD From Under The Cork Tree by Fall Out Boy on repeat while writing this. I did the same for Juncture, only it was the 21 Pilots CD Vessel)

_Tetsurou was around ten when Kenma, nine, explained his ability to hear colors. His little self had been so confused, being the first time he had heard of someone perceiving the world in a different manner than himself. The concept just made Kenma more of an enigma, someone he felt he needed to figure out and know (because, according to his kid logic, Kenma was already weird since he'd rather stay inside all day than be outside and "attract every speck of dirt known to mankind" as his mother put it)._

_Testurou was nothing if not persistent, and somehow through sheer determination, he got Kenma to pass the ball back and forth one cool summer day. He had picked that specific day because he knew that Kenma hated getting tired and sweaty, and volleyball, when done right, did both; so his little mind thought for sure, since the weather wasn't stifling, his next door neighbor would definitely relent. It didn't exactly work that way. Kenma went outside, yes, but he sat on the ground in a shaded area with one of his games._

_"Come on, Kenma!" He had pestered, trying in vain to practice receives by himself._

_"Too much of a bother," Kenma mumbled, not even looking up at Testurou, though it was hard to tell with his fringe._

_"It's just like one of your games," he tried._

_"...how?" Kenma had looked up a bit there, an obvious skeptical glint in his eyes_.

_Grinning, Tetsurou sought after a comparison. He didn't know much about Kenma's games at this time, since Kenma had taken to guarding his consoles like they were his life force ever since the Tetsurou might've accidentally broken one of them. Purely accidentally, as he wasn't mean-spirited, but Kenma had refused to see him for almost a week after the incident._

_"Well, you have to get better through time, right?" Came his tentative reply._

_"Like... evolutions?"_

_He didn't really know what Kenma had meant at the time, but he ran with it, feeling he was getting somewhere._

_"Yeah, exactly!" Tetsurou's hope rised--_

_"No, thank you." --only to be crushed with that statement._

_"Why?!"_

_He dragged out the question obnoxiously, dramatically walking over to flop next to Kenma's curled form._

_Kenma half shrugged, half nodded, a weird gesture... not that he'd ever tell that to Kenma's face because he would be more self-conscious around Tetsurou if he did. It was not something the ten year old wanted since Kenma still didn't trust him completely yet._

_"You have... to have... a talent. You have to be good at something," the then raven haired nine year old said._

_"That's a stupid thought!" He stood up, looking down at Kenma. "What's the point of "esolution" if you're already good!"_

_"Evolution," Kenma corrected._

_"You just have to want to do something," Testurou's hands were on his hips, "and if you're lucky, you'll have a special hidden talent!"_

_"Special talent?"_

_Kenma appeared intrigued, pausing his game for a few moments and looking at a spot just below Testurou's head._

_"Like... what?"_

_"I dunno, maybe night vision or super hearing! But if we're talking about volleyball, I'd want to be real tall!"_

_Kenma went back to his game. "That wouldn't be a special talent, Kuro."_

_Tetsurou beamed at the nickname even though he felt discouraged. He was old enough at the time to understand if someone gave you a nickname, it usually meant they liked you and planned to be friends for a while._

_"Then what is a special talent to you?"_  
__________________ ____

Tetsurou's feet were rooted to the carpet, all his fears and hopes tensing his muscles to the point they feel like they'll snap. Kenma had just left him behind, the click of the door echoing throughout the empty room. Still, Testurou didn't move, because if he did, he would have to admit that the past hour had just happened and he had fucked up _again._

He almost wished he had made himself really take a look at Kenma; he wanted to see what changed and what stayed the same, if Kenma still had freckles masked by the dark circles around his eyes, the product of staying up all night playing Love Live. Had college changed him? Had _Tetsurou_ changed him?

He scoffed at himself, _of course he had._

Tetsurou startled at the sound of the door opening, tensing in wait to see who it was. He wasn't sure he could handle seeing anyone at the moment. He didn't see Kenma coming back, and if the blond ever did, it would be to come back for something like his game. 

"Ah, Tetsu-chan, did you get rejected again?" Oikawa Tooru inquired as he stuck his head inside the room, seeing if it was all clear.

Testurou would admit he was never too discreet about his conquests, but he never slept with anyone when he knew Oikawa would be getting back. He wasn't that tacky, he didn't think, and Oikawa loved to exaggerate.

"Leave me alone, Oikawa," he snapped, relaxing his legs enough to busy himself with the task of getting a sports drink out of their mini fridge. He was bending over when his over zealous room mate slapped his ass.

"That isn't what leaving me alone means."

"I'm just trying to cheer you up, is all~," Oikawa hummed, a pep in his step as he set what seemed to be groceries on their small counter space.

"By smacking my ass?"

The brunet tsked. "Well, I don't know what you like, do I?"

"Are you implying I'm into S&M?"

His roommate's lips were pursed, thinking. Testurou almost commented on the concentrated look but kept his mouth shut, studying Oikawa.

Oikawa might not show it, but Tetsurou knew that he really cared about his friends, and the black haired male liked to think that he constituted as one. The brunet's hair was off kilter, no longer perfectly wavy due to the wind or maybe even from running his hand through his hair when stressed. Testurou wouldn't know since he never bothered to tame his own bed head.

"Don't put words in my mouth, Tetsu-chan. You just seemed down so I figured I'd distract you with some innocent rough house."

He stayed silent, still staring down at the fridge light until his eyes watered. Oikawa moved around the kitchenette in his peripheral vision, being his normal busy body self, putting their groceries away in their small storage space. The rest of the non-perishables, the brunet stashed under his bed like a hermit.

They had been living together for a semester and a half, if he remembered correctly. It was rough at first, between them. They didn't get along at all, personalities clashing. Oikawa didn't like how flippant Tetsurou was with his responsibilities (he procrastinates), but it wasn't his fault Oikawa was an overachiever. Oikawa horded food and supplies, and God forbid Testurou tried to have any milkbread. It worked out in the end, them being in similar situations.

The raven felt eyes on him, courtesy of Oikawa and his weird observation skills. Tetsurou could feel the brunet making calculations in his head, trying to discern what might have tipped Testurou's mood off. Oikawa wanted you to think he was a ditz so he could study you without restraint, and if he needed to, bring you down in the most painful way possible.

You didn't want to be on Oikawa's bad side.

Luckily, he wasn't. Testurou had been surprised when he saw the brunet in his room, wearing a pompous smirk when he introducing himself. They had never met before, only seeing each other in print, and Testurou wasn't one to judge. Oikawa's friends from Seijoh, Makki and Mattsun, called them the Salt Duo. Oikawa was appalled.

Oikawa clicked his tongue. "What's wrong?"

Tetsu gulped and visualized swallowing all his mix-matched, criss-cross emotions down until they burned in his stomach before his roommate could catch his weakness. 

"What makes you say there's something wrong," he attempted to force his mouth into a smile but knew it felt too false to look sincere.

"Well, I was tipped off the moment I walked in, because you didn't make a smart ass comment about my hair."

"I was-"

"But you didn't, so I knew something was wrong. Also, you usually help me with groceries since you're a somewhat decent person."

"Maybe I'm just tired and think you're perfectly capable of putting things away yourself." Tetsurou countered, snorting at the back handed compliment,"You seem able bodied to me."

"Looks can be deceiving," Oikawa sniffed haughtily, looking away before turning around with a smile, almost genuine. "Now, tell Oikawa-san what's wrong."

_______________

_He was now in his second year of high school, highly anticipating Kenma to just hurry up and get ready since you can only procrastinate going to school for so long. He wasn't sure what was taking Kenma so long, but he hoped, whatever it was, he would be the first to know._

_The last year before had been trying for them. They had been separated once again due to their year age difference, and this time, they were old enough to feel the burn of the divide. Tetsurou had known that Kenma didn't have a good time in middle school without him but didn't say anything._

Figures. _Kenma had acted like it was such a chore to let the other know how he felt and how he was doing, so Testurou had found out by himself. Yaku hadn't been happy that he had skipped practice once, but he hadn't cared._

_Kenma's footfalls were soft as a cat's. Tetsurou felt his presence rather than hear Kenma coming. The smaller male had a hat on, which was unusual to say the least. Kenma didn't like anything that would draw attention to him, so wearing a hat in this weather was strange._

_"What's up with the new get up?" He was exaggerating, since he had his school uniform on, but he knew Kenma would understand what he meant._

_"It's nothing," Kenma replied in a mumble._

_"Oh, come on. You're wearing a hat for what must be the first time in your life. Remember when we were younger and you always refused to wear a hat in the winter even when my mom told you to?"_

_"Shut up, Kuro."_

_He chuckled at that, reaching easily to take the hat off. Kenma didn't bother to stop him before the last second, looking away with a long suffering sigh. Testurou was surprised. Kenma's once black hair was now a straw yellow. At least, some of it. There were specks of black intermingled in the blond, the whole dye job off kilter and uneven, his roots still black. The hair was brittle and uncombed. It looked like Kenma had committed to it, but half way through, his arms got tired and he gave up. Knowing the now half blond, that's probably what happened._

_"Did you do this yourself?" He asked._

_Kenma didn't immediately answer, just did his signature shrug with his focus on his hand held game. The silence said something like "What do you think?"_

_Tetsu sighed._

_"We'll get it fixed after school, okay?"_

_Kenma hummed._

_"Have you eaten breakfast today?" It was customary for him to ask Kenma everyday before heading into different classes. Usually it was a no, since Kenma's mother didn't care to waste her precious time taking care of her only child. She probably hadn't even thought to get groceries for her son since she was gone so often._

_"No," Kenma answered as he had predicted. He already had an apple on hand, handing it to the setter, who looked up at him gratefully._

_When school let out, Kenma and Tetsurou piled into his smaller than desired room, the taller soon becoming an expert in hair dye after twenty minutes into a tutorial. Kenma eyed his gloved hands suspiciously, questioning Tetsu's expertise._

_"Well, it's better than you doing it on a whim, isn't it?" He countered, the chemical smell of the new hair dye making him want to sneeze._

_Afterwards, when all was said and done, and he thought he had done a pretty upstanding job. Kenma's hair had the feel of coarse brush and the color of a true blond. Tetsurou still loved running his hands through the rough strands, the new found blond leaning into his hands like a cat starved of attention._

_"Thank you," the first year had said, peeking up from his seat on the floor, having to bend his neck upwards to meet Kuroo's eyes, as the black haired teen was sitting on his bed. Kenma fingered his own hair, clumsy digits touching Testurou's before he went back to his game like nothing happened._

_Tetsurou's heart had picked up speed when their skin had touched, but then, he hadn't wondered why._

______________

When Tetsurou woke up, he could smell something cooking. This would be a normal thing for others to find in the morning, but when you live with Oikawa, it could be seen as a sign of impending disaster.

It also meant that Oikawa was excited about something. He groaned in annoyance when one of the dishes clanked together, deciding to just get up and face whatever mess his roommate had made.

Oikawa's whistling was muffled over the popping of some unidentified substance, a clicking sound adding to the combination of the noises creating an orchestra of the mundane. He looked towards the root of the clicking.

His body jolted as if struck by lightning when he saw Kenma sitting in his kitchenette, his knee jerk reaction knocking over the desk chair on his right. The blond didn't bother to spare him anything but a quick glance.

"Ah, Tetsu-chan, you're finally awake!" Oikawa chirped.

Tetsurou wiped his swollen eyes with the back of his hands, his sleep idled brain not completely computing the current situation. Kenma was here, in his dorm, sitting by Oikawa. _Sitting by Oikawa_. He didn't seem uncomfortable either, his complete focus on the device in his hands whereas he'd be sneaking glances at the brunet if he did not trust Oikawa. Kenma had probably already analyzed his roommate while Tetsurou was asleep. At least he didn't have to question how Kenma had gotten in.

"Kenma-chan was just telling me he was your setter in high school." Oikawa began, a conniving smile on his face. Tetsu was sure he saw Oikawa wink.

He narrowed his eyes, sighing as if to say, _I already told you that asshole._ He was not a fan at the twinkle in the brunet's eyes, his smile all dimples and charm and schemes.

"Don't get all competitive with him, now. He's not a fan."

Oikawa hmphed, returning to what seemed to be stir fry. "You hurt me, my friend. Kenma and I get along great!"

"If I didn't like Tooru, I wouldn't have stayed here," Kenma agreed.

"You're on first name basis already?!"

The taller setter gave him the stink eye, sticking his tongue out. Kenma just shook his head.

He ignored them both in favor of relieving himself in the shared bathroom, coming back to the dorm to see Kenma and Oikawa eating together, Oikawa jittering like a magpie all while Kenma gazed at his stir fry like it might move. It was cute. Oikawa tried to give Tetsurou a plate too, but he turned his nose up at the strange smell.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic!"

"Oikawa, I would be more surprised if I didn't become dramatic in one way or another, having to live with you."

Kenma laughed aloud, the sound deeper than most would expect. Both Oikawa and himself were startled; Tetsu felt his heart run off its beaten path, and his palms became clammy. His eyes tried to see something that wasn't there, he knew, but he could've sworn he saw Kenma look at him with an almost wistful expression.

He wasn't kidding himself. He knew that Kenma just wanted to know why Testurou had did what he did. The blond gave no indication that he wanted to rekindle their relationship, he only wanted answers to his questions, and he deserved them. It wasn't Tetsurou's place to want nor ask for more of a relationship than they had now. He should just be grateful that Kenma even wanted to be near him.

"Earth to Tetsu-chan, don't you have class?" Oikawa sing-songed, hands on his hips.

"What are you, my wife?" The picture fit, Oikawa in his cooking apron, waving his chopsticks around while nagging Tetsurou to go to class. Though he supposed that was a stereotype (it reminded him of his mom, okay). He shuddered when he realized he used to do the same thing with Kenma. The nagging thing, not the apron.

Oikawa ignored his previous statement to address Kenma directly. "You'll be back, right Kenma-chan? I don't want to have to deal with Tetsu-chan all on my own~"

Behind Kenma's back, Tetsurou gave the gesture of cutting his neck, a clear _shut the hell up, Oikawa, for fuck's sake!_.

His brunet roommate smiled back like Mother Mary. Oikawa was a conspiring little shit, and it was unnerving even when knowing he was on your side. Well, the bed head ridden Tetsurou hoped he was.

"Sure," Kenma mumbled, raising his eyes to meet Tetsurou's directly for a few seconds before looking away. He could hear the blood roar in his ears, a little bit startled. Kenma was trying to tell him something but he wasn't exactly sure what.

It bothered him. Testurou used to be able to tell what the blond was thinking a mile away, knew the language of his sighs. Now they might as well be Latin to him, for all he knew. He loathed to think that this is what he brought their relationship to. He still couldn't bare to look Kenma in the eye, but when those eyes are on him, he can't turn away.

"But it sounds like you're kicking me out," the said blond tacked on.

"I would never! I just know you aren't here for me, is all."

Another sigh. Tetsurou strained to understand it. He could swear he had heard this sigh a dozen times, back when Testurou had insistently bugged his best friend about something or other, and Kenma would breathe out a laugh.

"I'll walk Kuroo to his class, Tooru." 

Oikawa beamed at him, a self satisfied smile. He was obnoxious.

He blinked, gulping. Huh? Did he hear that right?

"You don't-"

Kenma shot him a glare similar to the ones he had given Lev back in high school. "If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have offered." Kenma pronounced each word with distinction, not slurring or mumbling the end like he always did. 

His best friend was serious, about not leaving him alone until he let loose what had happened. He wasn't trying to be negative, but Kenma wasn't the type to make long term commitments. All his past commitments had involved other people, someone to make sure he kept at it. Tetsurou didn't think he would be witness to his intense side again. But, when Kenma did commit himself completely to something (usually a game at one AM), he followed through. That was scary.

_______________

" _You look sad, Kenma-_ kun, _" Tetsurou teased, grinning down at his best friend._

_"No, I don't, Kuroo." Kenma heaved a large sigh like his shoulders had just been subject to a great burden. Tetsurou figured that was him._

_"You'll miss me, won't you, Kenma?"_

_"No, I will not. I won't have to deal with you leering down at me anymore."_

_*"Mean,"*Tetsurou said as he held his heart like his last life line had been severed, staggering as he wiped a nonexistent tear from the corner of his eye._

_It was moving day. Tetsurou could only to bring one person along with him to campus, and he didn't want to have to choose between his mother and father, so he jokingly invited Kenma (it wasn't so jokingly, he just didn't think Kenma would want to get up that early), and the blond had actually agreed._

_He was glad Kenma did._

_He could sense a distance between them, himself and Kenma. Kenma used to stand close to him, leeching whatever warmth from Testurou that he could like a kitten. But now he was sitting down on the train seats a few feet away. He was probably cold._

_Tetsurou should have realized that this would happen. Kenma had tried to do this every time they were separated, the blond still in middle school and Tetsu in high school. It was a_ thing. _A very annoying thing that was inherently Kenma._

_Glancing over to the side, he spied Kenma trying desperately to focus on his hand held console. His eyes slowly blinked, eyelids lifting only to settle on his cheek with golden lashes spread across pale skin. Tetsurou almost brushed away the hair that fell into his face, static from the seats making it stand on end. Kenma had probably stayed up all night playing his game and procrastinating getting to the next day, which was right now. He had a habit of doing that._

_Tetsurou closed the few feet between them, acting like his legs might go out from under him if he didn't sit down, almost_ right _on top of Kenma. The blond didn't even bother to move._

_"What are you playing this time?" He asked, looking over Kenma's shoulder. Kenma just grunted._

_"Well, it looks like Quest, which you know I am a beast at."_

_Kenma didn't answer, instead choosing to lean on his shoulder, heavy eyelids finally seeking rest. Tetsurou stiffened before forcing his muscles to relax. Well, besides one muscle. His heart refusing to be calmed, pumped two times its regular speed. The sweet smell of Kenma's hair not helping his growing panic at all. He was confused, because he shouldn't be this nervous, it was only his best friend._

You know that isn't why _, he thought to himself, only to choose to ignore that thought completely. Why would his heart misbehave him around Kenma? That's right, it wouldn't._ You're just nervous about the move, _he used to comfort himself, when all he could of think was how Kenma's hand look as it slipped free from its iron grip on his game and fell into Tetsurou's lap, how his own hand would interlock with Kenma's fingers._

_Yup, Tetsurou was just going to miss Kenma, so he was projecting. He was projecting the fuzzy feeling in his gut because he knew he wouldn't be seeing Kenma very often after this. They would be separated by many miles for the first time in their lives, of course he was going to be shaken up. That was all it was. He needed to force these allusions out of his mind._

_He wanted to smack himself upside the head, because_ come on, _he wasn't Bokuto!_

 _He would_ not _be Bokuto._

_________________

After his class, Kenma had been there waiting for him. Tetsurou could tell since he had the charger for his device with him. Kenma was huddled by the outlet, sitting in the very corner of the hall where it was known to have better wifi since it was parallel to a computer lab. He had this all planned out.

 _That little shit_ , Tetsurou thought.

Kenma stood up briskly, stretching and arching his back like a cat, finishing the captivating action with a cute yawn. Shit.

"Kenma- _kun,_ how nice it is to see you." He seemed so natural when he said that, but on the inside, he was an inferno of anxiety. Oh, if Sawamura could see him. What did Testurou's expression look like? What should he do with his hands? Arms? Did he appear casual? Too casual? He understood Sawamura perfectly now.

"Kuroo," Kenma greeted, not bothering to even look at him as he gathered his phone and charger, all set to follow Tetsu.

Not knowing what else to do, he lead them to a cafe. It had a cute cat theme, and on Saturdays, they had kittens there for the college students to play with. Finals week the kittens had a permanent residence.

"Do you have class soon, Kenma," he asked, being the considerate human being he was, hand to his chest innocently. Kenma didn't seem to appreciate his attempt at humor, shaking his head before they came up to the cafe. The blond immediately zoomed to get them a table in the busy place.

"You're paying right?" Kenma turned to him for confirmation before he ordered the most expensive cup of coffee Tetsurou had ever seen.

He coughed, already feeling his measly college kid wallet begin to moan in agony, but figured he could live off of Oikawa's food for awhile, since he knew all of the brunet's hiding places. (They were so generic for someone so crafty, he swears).

Tetsurou ordered a regular, small, _cheap_ coffee, feeling the irritation of the barista, who probably just wanted him to finish his order already but he was nervous, dammit! He wanted to procrastinate going over to their table as long as he could, because if he was scared of anyone more than the barista at the moment (she was pretty intimidating, like she could eat him alive, he felt bad for the smaller male that had to work with her), it was Kenma's sharp eyes analyzing every move he made.

Before too long, he couldn't stall any longer. He had to go over there and face Kenma, in a way he never thought would happen.

"I remember when getting you to come to cafés or anywhere without food was basically impossible." Testurou mused as he sat down, his small cup of coffee warming his already sweaty palms.

"Mhmm." Kenma agreed, or possibly disagreed, Testu didn't know.

"So..." Silence. It was so awkward. Usually, silence between them, sometimes punctuated by the clicking of Kenma's keys, was comfortable. They didn't have to provide any conversation, they were just happy in each other's space.

But of course he had to ruin it.

"Are you going to tell me what your problem is, yet?"

Tetsurou was astonished by the sudden comment, Kenma sipping loudly on his bank breaking iced coffee, looking up at him through his parted hair as he sucked on his straw.

His face flushed as he sputtered, "I-uh, no, I don't feel comfortable telling you at the moment."

"Is it the venue?" Kenma asked, straightening up from the table.

"No." He left it at that. He didn't want to tell Kenma just yet what was wrong with him. He didn't want Kenma to see how much of a horrible person he was, he didn't want Kenma to understand, to _agree,_ to their forced parting on his faults. Tetsurou didn't want to lose Kenma.

(It was funny, really, how he still thought Kenma was his, as if he were something to be had. It wasn't that he thought of Kenma as something lesser than a friend, it was quite the opposite. It was also ironic how he didn't see their estranged companionship as having lost Kenma, since he was the one to initiate it. If Kenma had done the same to him, he would be worse off then Kenma appeared to be. It was pathetic.)

Kenma stood up, his chair sliding against the cafe floor with a loud squeak. It drew attention towards them, and Kenma could tell, juding by the way his shoulders hunched even more.

"Then I'm leaving. I'll see you tomorrow." And he walked away just like that, leaving his half finished coffee on the table.

"Wait!"

He knew it was useless. When Kenma got an idea in his head, you couldn't stop him from doing anything. He was lazy, but he was stubborn, and sometimes, when the two traits weren't at war with each other, they worked out quite nicely for him.

Tetsurou sighed, leaving the grumpy waitress a tip and got the hell out of there, knowing how Kenma must feel when he knew eyes were on him. He didn't like being judged by anyone besides Kenma.

The hall to his dorm seemed longer now, and he imagined Kenma walking through the same space to get to his room. Kenma was trying, in his own way.

He actually remembered his keys (first semester here before his crisis he had to call Oikawa or maintenance to let him inside the room). What Testurou didn't expect when he got inside was to be ambushed.

"So! How did it go?" Oikawa asked, his eyes sparkling like it did when he knew he could beat someone on the court. It was creepy.

"What do you mean," he played dumb, laughing nervously at Oikawa's eyes, eyes that saw everything. They reminded him of Kenma's, as his and Oikawa's observation skills were very much alike.

Oikawa got right up in his space, giddy expression replaced by one of distaste. "You know. Exactly. What I'm talking about, so quit playing dumb."

He held his hands up in surrender.

"Heh, you got me," Tetsurou muttered.

"When are you going to get your shit together, Tetsu-chan?" The voice was sickly sweet, purring at the end. He had pissed Oikawa off, he knew. It was a touchy subject for the brunet too.

"I don't know, Oikawa, I don't know. It's all confusing."

Oikawa's smile was more toxic than that vat of acid he had seen in one of the chemistry labs. "What exactly is confusing your puny brain?"

Tetsu heaved a sigh as he laid out on his bed, eyes burning. "I don't need to take this shit from you, Oikawa. I know it's all my fault, you've told me how many times before?"

"I'll just tell you however many times it takes to get through your thick skull. Until you fix this mess." The brunet chittered.

"Why does this situation offend you so badly, asshole?"

Oikawa looked down on him like it was a natural thing, being so tall. His lips were set in a pouted purse, and he angled his neck so his nose was high in the air like the arrogant asshat he was.

"You go to the _same_ college, Tetsu-chan. You're within walking distance now, and you actively avoid him. That angers me, because you don't take advantage of this close proximity." Oikawa took a few big steps until he was right at the foot of Tetsurou's bed. "And, I don't like people who take anything for granted. So quit internalizing everything, it reminds me of Tobio-chan which pisses me off even more."

Oikawa sat delicately on the edge of the bed. "You need to think. Quit avoiding yourself, and quit avoiding Kenma-chan. You might be an oblivious roommate, but Oikawa-san cares about you."

"Are you seriously talking in third person right now?!" Tetsurou asked in an incredulous tone, sitting up. 

Oikawa just ignored him. "So suck it up, and act on your feelings. I happen to like Kenma-chan too, and I don't want to see him get hurt. Quit having secrets, stop keeping everything to yourself. Commun-i-cation work wonders~" The brunet opened his arms wide as he pronounced each syllable.

He snorted. "That's rich coming from you, Mr. Fake it Til You Make It."

"I still communicate! Ever heard of being passive aggressive?"

Testurou kicked him off the bed. 

_________________

_"Are you sure about this, Bo?"_

_Bokuto, in all his glory, let out a big laugh, his wide shoulders shaking with the effort._

_"Of course, bro, why wouldn't I be?" His laugh trailed off for a second before coming back full force._

_Tetsurou side eyed his best bro, feeling all the embarrassment that the two toned idiot should be experiencing. Bokuto wasn't the brightest person, but Testurou had never expected him to be this insensitive._

_"Bro, aren't you worried about Akaashi, at all?"_

_"Waaahh, no, we'll be fine, we'll be fine." Bokuto cleared his throat, "He just said for us to take a break, we aren't broken up or anything."_

_There was was a very distinctive_ yet _at the end of that sentence, both of them cringed. Tetsurou knew he should let it go, they were going out to make Bokuto feel better, not guilty. But, the black haired student was smart enough to know that Akaashi would probably not be happy if he knew Bokuto was going out partying while they were taking a break._

_"Hey hey hey, let's do this!"_

_By the time they were at the bar, a shady place that served alcohol to minors like themselves, it was already packed pack body to body. The place was a mess, it appeared, and the music hurt his ears, but Bokuto insisted they go. Testurou might look like a party person, but he sure as hell didn't like this mess, drunk bodies already strewn on the floor. (Maybe he was taking on some of Kenma's homebody personality, since he missed the blond so much.)_

_Testurou lost Bokuto almost as soon as they got there, the ace searching for something (alcohol) to help him forget he and Akaashi's first big fight (he still doesn't know what it was about). He didn't mind, though, since he was alright talking to new people._

_Tetsurou still got antsy not knowing what trouble Bokuto was getting into, so he began his search and found him downing what looked like his second shot. Bokuto's hair was a mess, the stiffness that made it look like an owl losing its strength. It was probably from sweat, possibly from Bokuto running his hand through it. Or maybe it was--_

_Oh._

Oh.

_Hidden behind his dorky friend, where he couldn't initially see, was what looked like a woman, petite and curvy,  trying to run her hand through an uncomfortable Bokuto's hair. The owl man was trying to skirt away from the blonde woman, frantically reaching to fix his butchered hair style._

_"Yo, Bokuto!" He hollered, slipping his arm over the other's shoulder, "I've been looking all over for you,_ babe. _"_

_"Ahhh, bro--uh, I mean, honey, you found me!" Bokuto's voice was slurred, and his big blurry eyes widened in relief._

_Lightweight, Testurou mentally snorted._

_The girl looked at them in slight disgust but disappeared nonetheless, stumbling helplessly on her high heels. Someone really needed to walk her home, she was way too smashed._

_"Thanks, Kuroo. She wouldn't believe that I was gay."_

_"And taken," he added._

_"And taken." Bokuto looked down sullenly._

_"Bro, what happened?"_

_Bokuto let out a drawn out groan, feeling Testurou's waiting gaze. He pulled at his already messy hair. "I don't know! I think the distance is hurting us too much. I thought I could handle long distance but..."_

_"You are more of a hands on kind of guy, Bo. You need to see him face to face and talk to him much more, huh?"_

_The upset Bokuto let out a hiccup and began rambling. It was getting harder and harder to understand what he was saying, but Tetsurou still tried to listen. The emotions in Bokuto's voice changing from heartbroken, to angry, to an even more hopeful tone._

I wonder what his voice would sound like to Kenma right now? _Tetsurou thought. His chest tightened, and he felt like he knew some of what Bokuto was feeling. The strange empty, flighty feeling when he realized how long it had been since he had heard Kenma's voice or saw his horrible roots that Testurou was always touching up._

_He excused himself once Bokuto looked more stable (he ordered a beer, instead of another round of shots, so that had to be good sign) and headed towards the bathroom. Seeing the long line that extended from the girls' bathroom, he winced in sympathy._

_Getting back into the fray of the bar (it was looking more like a club now), Tetsurou had a strong urge to just carry Bokuto out of here, catch a cab, and call Kenma when he got to the dorm. Kenma should probably still be up--_

_"Hey, do you have any change?"_

_He turned a bit to the right, an equally blonde woman to the earlier one was looking straight at him, almost the same height as him. Tetsurou drew a bit back, not liking how she was leaning on him._

_"Why?" He asked. She might need money for a cab, he reasoned before attempting to ditch her._

_"Oh, I was just wanting you to buy me a drink," she purred, laying her hand on his chest and her grip on his arm pretty strong. He still couldn't get over her height, and she wasn't even wearing heels._

_"So... you're coming onto me?" He began to sweat, his heart hopping a little quicker, like it had just been hit by a good caffeine rush. It was an unpleasant feeling."No, thank you."_

_"Oh, come on~. You and the faggot over there are the only ones that are taller than me. Shorter men seem to find my height as a turn off."_

_Testurou tore his arm away from her. "It's not your height that turns people off," he snarled, "Even if I was the straightest straight to ever straight I'd never go for someone like you."_

_You could almost hear the click of her teeth as her mouth shut, her face folding into a look of pure revulsion. "Later, fag."_

_As if it were possible, he could feel his heart pounding even harder, blood pumping at a faster rate than it did after a good spike. Only this time he almost did not want the blood to circulate through his heart, it felt too hot, too rapid, and he wasn't sure his heart could take it. The patrons at the bar scurried around him like ants, their lives not changing at that moment, this small point in time having no particular impact._

_Tetsurou had always known Bokuto was gay (come on, put him in a room with Akaashi and he'd spend a lot of the time giving the pretty setter heart eyes), and Testurou had never cared either way who Bokuto was attracted to, as long as his bro was happy. He had been naive, thinking his friend would always be accepted wherever he went._

_Testurou was naive to think_ he _would be accepted everywhere he went._

_The world wasn't like his high school or Bokuto's high school. Not everyone was kind, tolerant, accepting. There was an ideal Testurou always had in his mind, and it was that._

_He made his way back to where he last saw Bokuto in a blur, relieved when he saw the sad drunk still on his perch. Bokuto was grazing the rim of his drink with his forefinger, nursing it close to the edge of the table. Tetsurou sidled up to the empty chair next to his friend, sighing before ordering a soda. (One of them had to stay sober, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be Bokuto, that ship had already sailed)._

_"What do I do, Kuroo?!" Bokuto groaned, the words coming out much clearer than before since he laid off the shots. He sounded defeated and tired, the certain sound of when deep bone fatigue, born from the strain of constant stress._

_"I'm not sure, Bo," he admitted._

_"Why?! Why did this have to happen now? We were at such a great place when I left, happy. I almost wish I had failed a year or something so we could'-" Bokuto hiccupped, "Could have been together longer."_

_Kuroo tsked, hitting Bokuto on the shoulder, hard. Bokuto looked at him with hurt. "That's what Akaashi would have asked me to do, you big oaf. This is just the adjustment period, Bo. Give it some time, try to talk to Akaashi a bit. Let him know you aren't looking to break up anytime soon. Akaashi's the type of person to feel like he was holding you back, so tell him he isn't, that he is helping you move forward."._

_Bokuto was looking at him in awe, causing Tetsurou's already singed cheeks to brighten even more._

_"Bro... that was so deep. And such a good idea! Is that what you did with Kenma?"_

_"Kenma? What do you mean?"_

_Bokuto's one eye half closed in confusion, his eyebrows giving a distinct expression of bewilderment._

_"Aren't you two together? Or at least gonna be?"_

_Testurou's throat closed up once again, the earlier panic that had receded springing to life once more. His dormant thoughts and feelings thawing, flooding his barriers._

_"What?! No, we're not like that at all! I would have told you if we were!"_

_"Are you sure? You're a romantic, bro, I thought you were just keeping it to yourself for Kenma's sake!"_

_"No, no no. I don't... I don't feel like that about him."_

_This time it was Bokuto that looked at him with pity, or possibly empathy, having been in the same position for most of his high school days. Tetsurou could have sworn he felt all eyes on him, judging him, picking him apart piece by piece. The walls were closing in like massive blocks, stopping him from any type of escape._

_Bokuto repeated his last question, eyes now focused and clear, "Are you_ sure _?"_

_This wasn't happening. This was all a nightmare, his dark thoughts before bed coming to suffocate any last bits of denial from his system. He had known it. He had known it. He had been in love with Kenma for years._

_He had loved him, though innocently, when they had played together for the first time. Tetsurou having to drag Kenma out every mild day, persuading him to toss the volleyball back and forth until it started into something more. He had been in love with him in his second year, running his big hands through Kenma's newly blond, newly dyed, coarse hair. He had been in love with him that day of their goodbye, his side still warm and tingly from the train ride over, Kenma asleep peacefully with his support._

_He had_ always _known it. He just never accepted it._

 _And he wouldn't, but Tetsurou would acknowledge it. He would hold the hollow thing that was his love, strong and true and passionate, though still empty from the knowledge of what could happen if he did confess. Come clean. What_ would _happen._

 _Kenma wasn't fragile, he wasn't weak. But he was tender, unprotected. He had never given any hint to Tetsurou that he had the same feelings, or if he was even gay or straight or bi or_ anything _._

_Kenma had never shown any sexual or romantic attraction. Had never given anyone an inkling he wanted that sort of affection given to him in the form of anyone's love. Platonic love, yes. Romantic love? Maybe. Possibly? But Tetsurou knew Kenma wasn't one for sex, and he wasn't sure if Kenma was one for falling in love. He wouldn't return your feelings, Tetsurou told himself. Don't let Bokuto give you any hope._

_"_ No _," the one word came out shaky, an unstable statement born of uncertainty and loss of hope. Bleak._

_"No. I'm not sure." He spoke again, voice void of anything aside from shock. At least he no longer sounded shaken._

_No one else had to know. No one else had to see him in this pathetic state of stark awareness._

No one. Especially  _Kenma._  
______________

The soft snoring filled the room, coming from Oikawa's side. The floor fan whirling its comforting white noise stopped Tetsurou from dwelling on his racing thoughts, at first. It only worked for the first hour of staring at the ceiling.

Tetsurou was trying to safely contemplate his next move, 'safely' being with the minimal amount of self hatred.

He needed to quit thinking of himself, first. He should have been honest from the start, or at least told Kenma he needed some time alone for awhile, and that it was nothing Kenma had personally done. It was just what _Tetsurou_ had done, or is doing, being in love with his best friend.

The memories are what got to him the most. He remembered all the times they were together, how many times Kenma had stayed at his house because his mother was a good-for-nothing and his father gone for a while. The once happy memories were now twisted and stained with his obvious feelings, they had always been so blatant he was surprised that Kenma had not seen. He felt disgusted for all the times he had looked at Kenma with something other than friendship in mind, had thought of him as more of _object_  that would _please him_ , even if he had not realized he was at the time. _He_  was _disgusting_.

Maybe he had. Kenma was the type to keep those things to himself, always letting people be when he knew they weren't ready to let those certain things out. The blond had actually been the person Bokuto had gone to in his time of need, Kenma _plus_ Tetsurou. He had wanted to know if Kenma thought he had a chance with Akaashi. (Bokuto never seemed to factor the possibility that his setter was straight, just the possibility of Akaashi not liking _him_  in particular.) Kenma used the time most people would spend talking to observe.

Tetsurou twisted and turned in bed again, the cheap bed creaking, that one old spring digging into his lower back, the blankets seemingly attempting to strangle him in their depths, sweat causing the sheets to stick.

Oikawa's words came to him over and over, the brunet's annoying voice ringing true time and time again. Testurou was selfish with his feelings. And he was wasting time, precious time that they could be using to become reacquainted, to get to know each other once again. He shouldn't expect Kenma to return his feelings, but he was an idiot before to not realize that even if the blond did, everything wouldn't just become peachy again. It would take even more work to get their relationship to a romantic level. They would have to work from the ground up. If you wanted something to recover, you needed to treat it with care, cultivate it. Roots never grow back over night.

_"So you need to suck it up, and act on your feelings. Quit having secrets, stop keeping everything to yourself. Commun-i-cation work wonders~"_

As much as the execution of that statement annoyed him, Oikawa was right. Testurou needed to be truthful if he wanted to get anything else but pain from this relationship.

His digital clack read one AM, and he had class tomorrow too, but Testurou was afraid he'd lose any nerve he worked up in the last few hours, watching it diminish as if the sun had bleached it away. He could not wait, he had to spew his emotions before it was too late or he'd blurt it out next time they go out for coffee.

Leaving a note of his departure (if he texted it to Oikawa now it would wake him up, since he slept with the phone right next to him), Testurou shrugged on a zip up hoodie and tripped over his sweat pants in quiet shuffles. He even managed to shut the door softly.

The halls were twisted and morphed with the darkness. He passed their vending machine, now empty and devoid of any snacks, the class completely cleaned it up. Testurou felt a bit bad about leaving it, but he was already broke, and he was sure that Kenma wouldn't be able to pay for it. He still looked away. The Incident might be what forced them back together, but it was also one of the most humiliating moments of his life.

Testurou was having heart palpitations, he swore. It galloped uncontrollably, so much so he could feel the echo in his cold fingertips. He was shaking slightly, especially at his naval, his stomach doing somersaults, the kind where Tetsurou had to clench at his chest and deep breaths. Each step was a challenge of his mind and body, Testurou'd mind _really_ not liking the distress he was putting his body through.

Once he got to the dorm, knowing who was just on the other side thanks to Bokuto always talking about Akaashi and where he dwelled, and to Oikawa, who had somehow "stumbled" upon Kenma's room number when Tetsurou confessed everything to him. He was at a loss of what to do.

Did he knock? He should probably call first, right? He was pretty sure Kenma hadn't switched numbers, but he was also pretty sure that Kenma was still awake at this hour, if his bad habits had prevailed to his college years.

The door opened then, only a crack. Startled, Tetsurou didn't say anything, and he wasn't sure if it was Akaashi or Kenma who had answered.

"Kuroo? I can hear you pacing out there." No one could have that same soft deadpan as the blond stuck his head out.

"Kenma, sorry to bother you this late, but-"

"Are you going to tell me what your problem is, yet? If not, I'm busy."

Tetsurou drew back, scratching at his messier-than-usual bedhead. "Yes."

Kenma reeled in a similar way he had not a moment before, obviously not expecting for Tetsurou to come clean.

"Come in, I guess." Kenma mumbled, stepping back from the door.

"What about Akaashi?"

"What _about_ Akaashi?" Kenma darkened a fraction, his cheeks telling a different story than his blank face, gesturing for Tetsurou to come on. "He's...staying at Bokuto's. They were getting too cozy for me to deal with."

"So you kicked them out, eh?" He got the signature Kenma glare, so he held his arms up in surrender, attempting to keep up his faux nonchalance ,passing Kenma to get into the dorm. "Okay, okay, I'll stop teasing. But what about Bokuto's roommate that cries a lot and has weird teeth?"

"Apparently they drove him away with their PDA as well."

The room was... plain compared to the one he shared with Oikawa. Both sides of the room were surprisingly clean, especially what appeared to be Kenma's space. There was no kitchenette, which was a given since they were both first years, but the whole place felt empty without one. There was a microwave though, all that Kenma probably needed.

Counting how many blankets were piled on Kenma's bed helped Tetsurou calm down. The room was spinning slightly, the floor raising and lowering with every step he took, wavering. He needed to do something with his hands, needed to have something to grasp and hold and squeeze, because goddamn it, he couldn't breathe.

Kenma was appraising him, probably wanted to make sure he couldn't catch any of Tetsurou's tells, analyzing everything down to his jittery fingers, itching to get the claws into something. He had forgotten how unnerving this type of blatant regard could be, the intense stare of a cat rating his prey.

Kenma sat in his bed, blankets following the shift as they tumbled down around him. He curled up into a ball, knees meeting his chest. He pointed at the spot farthest from him, but still on the bed.

"Sit."

And sit Tetsurou did, scrambling to follow the command. Testurou wiped his hands on his pants, his right leg refusing to cease its repeated bounces.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

Tetsurou chuckled darkly in spite of himself, "You were just demanding it earlier today, well, yesterday. Why are you asking me that now when I could obviously take it back, leave, and never tell you what I wanted to say?"

"I might want answers, but I'm not going to force them out of you, especially at this hour," Kenma replied, "I want you to tell me because you want to, not because you were pressured. I was wrong before. I'm going to be the bigger person, and give you a choice."

"No. Don't say that. I needed some pressure. Cowards always do." Testurou took a drawing breath through his nose as he closed his eyes, pretending this was a volleyball game, at a deuce, and he needed to perform, anything to avoid the sting of what he just admitted.

"Go on, then. I won't interrupt."

"What I'm about to say is not an excuse. It's just the thought and fear behind my decision, and I take complete responsibility for it. I should've told you about this so long ago, really, and I can't believe it was Oikawa of all people that kicked my ass in gear-"

"I know all that." Kenma interjected.

Tetsurou teased, "I thought you weren't going to interrupt?"

Tetsurou was the scheming type, yes. Most people who met him realized that within the first few minutes of knowing him. Yet, what others didn't know was that he couldn't take a tense atmosphere. He did whatever he could to put people around him at ease, or at least put their mind off things (which meant he pissed people off unintentionally sometimes). He couldn't take the tense look in Kenma's eyes, he selfishly wanted this weight off of him. 

Kenma smiled softly at that, eyes glued to the floor and his hands battling it out in his lap.

"Sorry, continue."

Clearing his throat, he continued, "Okay...this is really hard to say, and it's so fucking cliche, I swear." He swallowed, his mouth dry as cotton. "I've never done this confession thing, I've only ever been confessed to, as arrogant as that sounds, so please bear with me."

Crescent moons carved their way into his palms, blood slowly welling from where his nails bit his skin, not enough for a pool to grow. Kenma followed his gaze to the wounds, eyes widening only to narrow at Tetsurou's words.

It was sort of funny, really, how easy the words lined up against his tongue, ready and willing to fight each other to get out into the open, to breathe and die in the tense air. Everything was happening quickly, slowly, not at all, until he realized he hadn't spoken another word. The words sparring to be born hadn't yet gotten their chance.

Until they did.

"The truth is... I've been in love with you, for a long time."

The air got stifling, not like the heated moments between two lovers, but the merciless dry heat of the desert. Would it rain? Would he get relief from the tension baring its load on his shoulders? Had his words reached Kenma, or had the whole speech been in his mind?

It must have gotten out there, for Tetsurou could see Kenma's face scrunch like it did when there were tears threatening, his hands raising to his face as if he was seeing they were still there and that this wasn't a mirage.

"Why?" Kenma whispered.

"Why what?"

"Why would you be in love with me?"

Kenma wasn't taking this as badly as he had feared, but the vacant look in his eyes was bothersome, the one he had worn the first time he lied to Tetsurou, telling him that he didn't miss his dad, not one bit. Testurou felt frightened to continue, that Kenma was a ticking time bomb and he needed to run for cover. It was also insulting that Kenma didn't seem to believe what he had said, that Tetsurou had been in love with Kenma since he was old enough to conceive such a lofty feeling.

"Why not? You're my best friend, Kenma, and the one I trust the most out of anyone. You keep everything inside, so much so that I have to draw your deeper feelings out, but I never minded. It made me feel like..." he paused, needing a breath to make sure the words he was saying were making it to the open air. "...I was special because I could do that. You're so creative and cute and smart, who could not know you and not care about you? Anyone who does is an idiot."

"So why the hiding, the avoiding, the ignoring?" Kenma's voice grew stronger, like the sun rising, with each word, the type of strength that you knew could collapse at any moment.

"I was scared, like I said!" Tetsurou sputtered, tripping over his words.

"Of what, not being straight? I wonder what Bokuto and Akaashi would think about that. Shouyou and his setter, Yaku and... Lev." If it was any other situation, Tetsurou would've laughed at the long pause at Lev's name, but he felt all the emotions he swallowed down begin to come back up.

"No! Of pushing my feelings onto you! Of making you feeling uncomfortable! Of alienating you because of your feelings!"

The blond gripped at the sheet, curling into himself even more. "You've already done that."

They were both at a stand still, the silence falling down on him, his body too hot and too cold at the same time, shivering. The kind of cold that seeped into your bones during winter, no matter how much you try, you can never truly escape the bitterness, even when your skin is red from heat. 

"I love you, too."

Kenma had said it so softly that Tetsurou almost didn't hear it, but it was there. The desolate desert seemed to have a hidden oasis, but the question was if he had enough strength to reach it before he died.

"Like, love love?"

"What are you, twelve? I meant what I said, but I'm not saying it again."

The next few seconds were almost like an out-of-body experience for Tetsurou, his limbs light, and his lungs even lighter. Pure adrenaline pumped through his veins, the kind that came from a very nice high. This moment didn't go as he had planned, but it was happening nevertheless.

But with that came this crushing, bitter regret. It tasted sour in his mouth, a candy that only provided a bitter twist of the mouth. They could have been together for almost a year if he had just come clean. But, no, he was one for games and avoidance, and now, regret.

Biting his lip, the soreness of the abused flesh jolting away in reluctance. He could do this, even cowards could becomes heroes if they had enough resolve, the incentive. But would this really make him the hero, or just another defected bolt in the machine, another bad memory in Kenma's life, added to a list already too long for his short life?

He shook his head mentally, dispelling those ignorant thoughts fueled by his self-hatred. He wasn't going to let these thoughts, these insecurities, get between their possible relationship now, he would make sure of it.

"So... what are we going to do now?" Kenma asked, playing with his long sleeved shirt.

"I guess it's up to you now," Tetsurou answered. "Even if we both... feel the same way about each other, we should try to start fresh, not force anything too early."

He wasn't sure what else to say. If they went straight (no pun intended... well, maybe) into a romantic relationship, it could spell disaster. Kenna wouldn't trust Tetsurou, not even trying to fool himself, and a relationship without that foundation would crumble under any amount of stress placed on it. He didn't want that, he didn't want all this pain and hurt he had put both of them through to be for nothing. He wanted this relationship to last.

"So... we're back to just friends?"

"I guess so. We need to go one step at a time, I think. Not rush it. I remember Bokuto and Akaashi doing the same thing and look where they are!" 

"Fucking in Bokuto's dorm?" Kenma looked annoyed, his signature "ick" face making its appearance, which lead Tetsurou to believe that Bokuto and Akaashi weren't too discreet when they were here, which is surprising knowing Akaashi. Or, Kenma just didn't like the idea of sex, either way.

"So crude, Kenma-kun." He drawled, leaning back. Kenma once again glared at him, but it had no bite, for he had the beginnings of a small, genuine smile.

This time, the silence between was comfortable this time, Kenma's eyes getting heavier and heavier, like that day on the train. Still, Kenma clung to wakefulness, stretching and spreading out like a pleased cat. Something on his night stand went off, still too early for an alarm, Testurou thought when he saw that it was Kenma's phone.

"Being a bad influence on Chibi-chan, texting this late-- or early, more like it."

"It isn't Shouyou," Kenma grumbled. "Though I do want to tell him...the good news."

Kenma grabbed his phone in one fluid motion, a gesture that, by now, was muscle memory, then crawled his way to where Tetsurou sat. His big shirt engulfed him, blond hair a complete mess, dark circles under his eyes telling Tetsurou this wasn't his first all nighter of the week. Kenma was beautiful, in this almost familiar setting, coming to sit next to him, soon to fall asleep on his shoulder until Tetsurou tucked him into bed or fell asleep next to him.

And that's what Kenma did. He was too tired to play any major games, so he seemed to have settled for Candy Crush, nestling his head up again Tetsurou's neck. Kenma was fighting sleep, terribly endearing trait, his moves sloppy and mechanical. It didn't take too long for him to doze off.

It was strange. Tetsurou had been petrified of this day for months, ever since he realized his feelings for the blond was the kind that overreached friendship. He wished he had known, that Kenma wouldn't have been repulsed, that Kenma had returned his feelings altogether. But if he had known, it would've been too easy in a way. He wouldn't have struggled and overcame his fears (thanks to Oikawa, the brunet would never let him forget). He wouldn't have grown into someone he felt could evolve, to deserve this second chance.

Sometimes you had to destroy something completely, tear yourself down entirely before you were built back up more reinforced than you were in the present moment, before you understood what was there all along. 

He only wished he had not caused Kenma all this pain. The blond was vulnerable, not entirely protected in his self made cocoon that had to feel like a prison some days. These mental and emotional casualties would always be on Testurou's mind, reminding him to do whatever he could to protect Kenma from harm, especially harm caused by Testurou himself. He would work to deserve him, he would do whatever he could to make the final amends until they were closer than ever before, if that was what they both wanted, what Kenma wanted.

Testurou fell asleep as the sun came up, and for once drifted into unconsciousness with hope.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Please leave a comment and/or kudos, it would be much appreciated! 
> 
> I am already brainstorming fic ideas. I have two specific ones, an Iwaoi and a Kiyoyachi. The Kiyoyachi is darker and has more world building than I am used too, and the Iwaoi is cutesy (think domestic, we need more domestic Iwaoi.) Let me know which sounds more appealing!
> 
> My joint tumblr with my beta is eccentrick-stardust~


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